


Baby Brat

by orphan_account



Series: Baby [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Daddy Kink, Incest, M/M, Underage Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter wants to misbehave, and his daddy has no intentions of letting him get away with it.





	Baby Brat

P

Peter really doesn’t want to be here, in this restaurant with a name he can’t pronounce, at dinner with a business partner of Tony’s whose name he couldn’t be bothered to remember. He’s sitting on what has to be the world’s most uncomfortable chair, his ass is fucking throbbing, and if he had known that he’d be sitting here right now instead of cuddled up in his daddy’s comfortable lap, he wouldn’t have told FRIDAY to take the long way home, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have let his dad fuck his ass three times before getting home. On top of it all the other guy is laughing so fucking loud, Peter’s pretty sure he wants to fuck Tony and, as usual, Tony has _no fucking clue_ and is just sitting there being his usual charming self, and well, the boy’s just so fucking done™ that he does not want to be dealing with this right now. The next time Tony gives him that look and says the whole _pretty please, baby boy, for me_ , Peter’s going to make sure he doesn’t fall for that shit. But right now it can’t be helped, and he figures since he’s already here he may as well go ahead and enjoy himself.

When Mr. Who Gives A Fuck gets up to use the “restroom” (could this man be any more obnoxious), Peter slips underneath the table. He just sits between his daddy’s legs for a while, ignoring the harsh whispers coming from above and salivating over the considerable bulge in front of him. “Baby, what the fuck are you doing? I know you’re bored and don’t wanna be here, but trust me when I say, whatever you’re about to do right now, I promise you’re gonna regret it, you little brat.”

Despite knowing that a warning like that was coming, Peter’s breath still hitches at the dark promise that underscores his daddy’s words. He’s glad he can’t see Tony’s face right now. The look in those dark eyes would probably be enough to get him to back down. Now he just steels his nerves before responding, “Yeah, Daddy? You promise? Promise you’re gonna make me regret it?”

And Tony can’t help the small groan that escapes him because Jesus Christ no matter how many times he hears it, when that innocent tongue wraps around such filthy words it never fails to make his dick pulse with need. Fuck, if that’s how the boy wants to play it, he’s in no place to stop him. “Oh, you dirty, dirty boy. Does it turn you on, brat? Knowing that Daddy’s going to paint that ass of yours red when we get home?”

Yeah, Peter doesn’t think he’s going to be able to answer that without letting out an embarrassingly loud moan first. Luckily, he’s saved from having to respond when the other man returns, inquiring after Peter’s whereabouts. Tony hastily makes up some excuse about him going to the car or something, he’s not really paying attention. Only after the man finishes his sentence does he pull the throbbing length from his pants, knowing his whispered, “you gotta be really quiet. Don’t wanna get caught, so you gotta be good Daddy,” had been heard, if the hitch in Tony’s breath is any indication. He starts off slow, determined to earn his punishment. He swirls his tongue around the head, lapping up the fluid that’s already there. He’s only just started and his dad is leaking consistently and, god, that turns him on more than it should. He licks all the way down his daddy’s perfect cock, before coming back up and swallowing it all in one movement. He hears Tony choke, revels in the desperate tug on his hair as his dad rushes to cover the action with a spoonful of cake. He swallows around the length, relishing the pressure in his throat, before pulling off and repeating the motion. It only takes a few more swallows for Tony’s orgasm to hit, and Peter holds the throbbing head in his mouth so he can savour the taste of his daddy’s cum, enjoying his dessert just as much as his father had enjoyed his. He swallows every last drop before cleaning his dad’s length and tucking him back into his pants.

Only when he believes their guest is sufficiently distracted hitting on the waitress does he slip out from under the table, knowing his hair is messier and lips more swollen than when he’d walked in, but confident the other man is too oblivious to notice. He feels his heart stutter when the man had looks up with a curious expression on his face and doesn’t look away, and for one gut wrenching moment Peter thinks it’s all over. He feels Tony holding his breath too, both of them letting out a sigh of relief when all they hear is, “Looks like you got some whipped cream on your cheek there, young man.”

His father beats him to cleaning it, swiping his thumb across the drop of cum before sucking it into his mouth, eyes dark and hungry when he growls, “Petey can be such a dirty boy sometimes, isn’t that right, baby?” Peter gulps, the look in Tony’s eyes doing nothing to help the hard on in his slacks. The squeeze of his dad’s hand on his cock only encourages the erection he’s had since he got under the table. Then, with a quick flick of his wrist and no words of warning, his father overturns his half-finished dessert into Peter’s lap, the ice cream and cake resting in his lap and seeping into his pants making him very uncomfortable. Tony immediately begins issuing apologies, half-heartedly pawing at his lap with a napkin, but the look in his eyes when he makes brief eye contact with Peter is enough to tell him that was no accident. He’s saved from having to say anything when Tony says, “oh Pete, head to the washroom before this stuff starts to set in any more than it already has. You don’t want the ride home to be any more uncomfortable than necessary.” And the dark tone the words are delivered in makes it sound more like a promise than a statement, and Peter runs off to the bathroom without a backward glance.

Tony waits a couple seconds, not enough for Peter to make it too far, but enough that he thinks the dumbass sitting across the table from him won’t get too suspicious. (Honestly, he’s going to have a talk with Pepper about the investors she schedules meetings with, they should at least do an IQ test first, Jesus) He makes up an excuse, mumbling some bullshit about “teenagers, am I right?” He doesn’t even wait for a response before walking off, needing to make it to his son before he enters the bathroom. He catches Peter in the hallway fifty feet before the bathroom door, grabbing his wrist and twisting him around to slam him into the wall, pressing the length of his body against the boy’s. He hears the kid’s sharp intake of breath in his ear, and God, he’s way too hard for a middle-aged man who came less than five minutes ago.

Peter knows he’s fucked. There is not a single doubt in his mind that whatever’s coming is going to end very badly for him and that knowledge shouldn’t make his dick throb, shouldn’t make it pulse with need, but it does. He hears his dad growl, “Alright, baby, you started something back there, and I’m gonna make sure you finish it. Gotta learn that your actions have consequences, right baby boy, I mean, what kinda father would I be if I didn’t teach you that, hmm? Yeah, whatever you’re about to say, save it. First things first, no talking. Bratty whores don’t get to talk when Daddy’s talking, you got that?” And all Peter can do is shakily nod his head, the only thing holding him up the hard press of his dad’s body. “Mm, so you can be good when you want to be, huh? Well, since I had to be quiet at the table, you have to be quiet right here. And when I say right here, I mean right here. Naughty little sluts don’t get the privacy of the bathroom, they get fucked in an open hallway where anyone can walk by at any second. Ooh, your pants just got wetter, baby. That turn you on? Does it make your little cock leak like a faucet, knowing that anyone could catch you getting fucked against the wall in public like a needy whore who can’t even wait until he gets home?”

Peter keens high in his throat, unable to help the sound, and he’s rewarded by a too-hard, almost painful squeeze to his cock for his troubles. “If you keep making those noises someone’s going to come see what’s wrong, and if Daddy doesn’t get to cum before getting back to the table your punishment’s going to be so much worse, understand princess? Oh, you thought I forgot about that? You’re so cute. No, Daddy remembers exactly what I promised to do, I’m just interested in getting off first. So you’re going to be a good little slut and take it, because if you don’t it’s going to be a lot harder for you to sit down over the next week. And before you ask, no, you don’t get my tie to help you keep quiet, you’re just gonna have to do it on your own. You earned this, and a brat like you doesn’t deserve any help, understand?” And Peter tries so hard not to make a sound, but a little whimper falls from his lips unbiddenly. His father chuckles darkly in his ear, “Oh, sweetheart, this is going to be so. much. fun.”

With that, Tony moves away from the kid enough to turn him around to face the wall, pressing his chest to the boy’s back. He puts his son’s hands flat against the wall next to his face with a short “keep them there if you know what’s good for you.” Peter doesn’t even manage a nod, knowing it’s unnecessary, doing his best to just hold on for the ride. His father reaches an arm around his waist and undoes his belt, only pushing his slacks and boxers down under his ass, his cock still clothed under the hard press of the constricting fabric and the unforgiving wall. He thrusts his hips forward experimentally, eyes filling with frustrated tears at the lack of friction. Meanwhile, Tony works two fingers into the boy’s asshole, unsurprised and deeply satisfied to find it sufficiently loose and extremely sloppy from their earlier fuck. “Oh, you dirty little boy. You showered before coming to dinner, and what, you couldn’t bear without Daddy’s cum for even a few hours that you didn’t even clean yourself up? Well princess, don’t worry, Daddy’s going to fill up your little hole and give it what it needs.” He pulls back to pull his cock out of his slacks, unable to help the groan that falls from his mouth when he watches his desperate little boy cant his hips back He puts one hand on Peter’s hip to steady him, using the other to aim his cock, lightly rubbing the head of his cock back and forth across the boy’s entrance. He relishes the little aborted movements of his kid’s hips, waiting a few seconds before pushing into the wet velvet heat of the boy’s ass. He groans long and low into his boy’s ear, feeling the shiver that runs down his spine. He starts fucking into his son without a second thought, pounding away in a desperation to tear his boy apart, knowing they’ve been away from the table for too long already. He knows Peter has to be close, is sure the kid’s been achingly hard since the first taste of his daddy’s cock. He leans down to growl in the boy’s ear, “Listen up sweetheart. We’ve gotta get back to the table, and I’m gonna be generous enough to let you cum. But, my bratty little princess, you’re gonna do it just as you are, untouched with your cock still in your pants. Go on baby, you were gagging for it earlier, well, now you got it. That’s it, Daddy feels your little hole getting tighter. Cum for me and add to the mess in your pants, so I can fill up this slutty hole. Then I’m gonna pull your pants up and have that load drip down your sexy legs for the rest of this dinner. We’ve been gone too long you dirty little brat, someone’s gonna come looking for us so ‘m gonna need you to cum for me.”

And Peter knows even though he’s not supposed to make any noise, he’s only human, and with everything that’s falling from his daddy’s sinful lips, coupled with the cock that’s nailing his prostate, it’s all too much for him. He throws his head back onto his Tony’s shoulder and wails as he spills into his underwear, the warm fluid drying almost immediately and making him even stickier. He feels his daddy press deeps into his entrance one last time before he’s cumming too, filling him up just like he promised. He sags in his father’s hold, boneless and helpless to support himself, letting Tony hold him up with the strong grip at his hip. Eventually his aftershocks subside, and Tony pulls himself out of the boy’s ass, pulling up his pants and boxers before tucking himself away. He turns him around to buckle his belt and, _Jesus_ , his son looks ruined, eyelashes matted with unshed tears, pink cheeks streaked with the tears that did escape, hair flopping into his eyes and bites in his neck that Tony doesn’t even remember making. The image shouldn’t elicit the prideful thrill that it does, but he can’t help that reducing this gorgeous thing to such a mess makes him feel like a God. He sees Peter bite his lip and look down at his pants, and yeah, there’s no salvaging that. It doesn’t even look like they made it to the bathroom (which they didn’t), so Tony takes his jacket off and gives it to the boy to hold in front of him, and Peter pecks his lips gratefully.

They head back to the table, and their dumbass of a dinner partner doesn’t seem even slightly, only wincing in sympathy as Peter shakes his head in answer to the question, “didn’t get much cleaned, did ya?” They sit back down, and the boy barely manages to hide his grimace as his underwear starts pulling on the sensitive skin of his cock. Tony was actually ready to leave long before, even before his son got underneath the table, but he decides to stick around for a little while longer, if only to watch Peter’s discomfort get more and more pronounced. Eventually he takes pity, and they take their leave with a promise to get in touch (they won’t) and a mumbled _nice to meet you_ (it wasn’t).

They walk to the car, Tony deliberately walking at a snail’s pace just to relish the remnants of discomfort flashing across his son’s face. Peter knows better than to throw a tantrum, not willing to risk any added sentencing. His dad opens the backseat door and gestures for him to get in before sliding in after him. He hauls Peter over his lap, pausing to utter, “take us home FRIDAY, but the long way. We’re gonna need the extra time.” Neither of them pay attention to the AI’s response, Tony preoccupied with roughly pulling the boy’s pants and underwear down to expose the pale, perfect globes of his son’s ass, and Peter’s busy trying to hold in his moans. Tony swats his hand down a few times, nothing rough or overly hard, just something to pinken the skin and get Peter ready for what’s about to come. “Okay, you ready kid? Fifteen spanks per cheek should do the trick I think. Teach you a lesson about listening to your Daddy and behaving like a good boy in public. You’re gonna count with me now, princess.”

“Yes sir. _Oof_ – one! _Oh,_ oh, two! _D-daaddyyy_ , oh daddy please n- three!”

“That’s it, keep counting. You’re going to take it so well for me, my naughty little brat.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is starkerchemistry, come say hi! :)


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